


Esgaroth Cafe

by bilboswaggins



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilboswaggins/pseuds/bilboswaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU: Bilbo has started his job at Imladris School, and develops a routine which involves stopping off at a local breakfast cafe. Someone else there catches his eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Esgaroth Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to my acorn friend (Paula) for the prompt.

“Hello, Mrs. Durin? … Yes, I’m afraid it _is_ me again. … Mm-hm, this time it was the cage for the class hamster. … Oh, just general rough-housing. You know how they are. They were most apologetic about it, of course. … No, no not to worry, I can handle that. … Of course, yes, I’m having them clean it up as we speak. They look sufficiently sheepish. Oh, and you know, Fili is doing quite well, he got a 95% on his last test. … Yes, a significant improvement, I agree. Whatever instruction you’re giving him is clearly working. … Oh no? Well, I can’t take full credit. He’s a very bright boy. As is his brother. Kili’s paper was wonderfully written. … How’s that? … Oh, that sounds lovely, where are you headed? … Mm-hmm. … Mm-hmm. …. Well, I hope you have a great time, and I’ll forgive a bit of daydreaming on their part the rest of the week, heh. … Yes, of course, you too. I’ll send them home with the usual picture for your wall of this incident. Have a lovely time. As always, it has been a pleasure, and I hope I won’t have to call you any time soon. … Haha, yes, good day.”

Bilbo chuckled to himself as he hung up the phone. Fili and Kili’s mother was always pleasant conversation, even if it was always in the aftermath of some misbehavior or another. The rest of his students were outside, enjoying their recess, while Fili and Kili Durin were stuck inside, sweeping and cleaning up the cage of the class pet they had destroyed when Bilbo wasn’t looking.

He walked over to the two of them with the camera at his side, shaking his head, pretending to be stern. “Now boys…” he started, and they looked up at him with large, doe-like eyes. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with your mother,” they groaned. “She shall deal with this when you get home. Now hold still, I have to take your picture.” He let a smile out as they hung their heads, Kili holding up the sign ‘We Broke Sprinkles’ House.’ 

“We’re running out of room on the shame wall,” Fili sighed, leaning on the broom in overly dramatic sadness. 

“Mum says we might have to get a second board,” Kili added, dropping the sign as the camera flashed.

“Well then. Finish up here, and as soon as you’re done you can go outside with the rest of them. I don’t doubt any punishment of your mother’s will serve you better than anything I can do to you.” Bilbo added, sending the photo to himself so he could print during the break.

The twins rushed through their cleaning and ran outside quick as Bilbo would let them, and he watched outside with a chuckle. They were good kids, much as they were clumsy. The window blinds, the permanent marker on the white board, the cactus incident… The hamster cage was just the latest in their stint of accidental breakings. But it was never done purposefully. The faces and taped on fake eyebrows and backwards clothing days, now those were on purpose. But Bilbo got a chuckle out of them, and could never stay mad for long.

All in all, for his first year at this new job, things were going rather well. Fili and Kili were the only difficulties in his class, and that was hardly a downside. Things here were quiet, and he felt quite a new contentedness he had been missing for some time. His boss, a friend of his mother’s, would sometimes take him out for an early dinner after particularly trying Fridays. Gandalf was being quite kind to him, helping him along as he got used to the new town. 

Bilbo lived alone in a small apartment not two miles from the school, the place only halfway filled with possessions as he hadn’t quite had the time to accrue much. He was alone, save for his cat Myrtle, and he rather enjoyed it. His days consisted of an early rise, a quick trip to the coffee cafe along his biking route(he really was quite the sucker for a good morning pastry with his tea), early to school to set up for the day’s lessons, and back at home by four where he would spend his time cooking, grading papers while watching the news, reading, or tending to the little garden he had just finished setting up on the small terrace attached to his bedroom. 

There he was a few hours later after the end of school, stretching as he stepped in his quickly-becoming familiar entryway. It could do with some decoration, though. The walls were very bare, with only furniture and necessities, no pictures or space fillers, or trinkets of any kind. Not yet. He had left most of his things in his parents’ house back on Bag End. He had thought, fresh start, fresh things!, but that was becoming difficult, with a small salary and not a lot of free time. Ah well, he thought to himself, it’s only me, what’s the bother?

He changed into his lounging robe and slippers, pattering around the wooden flooring getting together a snack for himself. He pulled out some of the scones he had made the previous night, and petted Myrtle on the head as she hopped up beside him and purred for attention. There he sat at the kitchen table, petting Myrtle with one hand and reading the latest round of assigned papers with the other. He took a deep breath in and smiled to himself. Yes, this was nice, just as it was.

\--

The next morning he got up as he always did, easily, and eagerly. Another day, he would think to himself, another relaxing, happy day. Once he was showered and dressed, he fixed his helmet on his head, petted Myrtle and left the tv on low for her, and started out the door with his bicycle.

The weather was quite nice. Pleasantly cool with a light breeze, the sun dancing between the clouds and never in his eyes, birds chirping and no nasty insects to buzz annoyingly in his face. He liked biking to work. He lived close enough for it, and as a bonus, it might help with the little pooch he was starting to notice more and more.

Esgaroth’s Café was situated slightly out of his way, a few minutes to the north of the school. But it didn’t matter to Bilbo, the promise of a morning Danish or scone or cinnamon roll and nice hot and fresh tea was worth the extra time. He licked his lips as he pulled up to the place subconsciously, and hooked his bike up to the rack rather hastily. 

One of the things he loved about this place was how inviting it always looked. There were cozy armchairs and sofas right as you walked in, with the morning’s paper strewn across the little tables, and fresh flowers always in small vases, making it feel even more like home than the scent of baking goods and fresh coffee did on their own. Bilbo smiled as he walked in, taking no notice of anything but the smiling woman at the counter, who bade him welcome and a good morning.

“Good morning to you as well!” Bilbo said, cheerily. “How has it treated you?”

“Well, thank you for asking!” She smiled. “And I hope it has the same for you. What can we get for you this morning, Mr. Baggins?”

He completed his order cheerily as always, and settled himself down in his favourite armchair there, wriggling himself to a comfortable position and closing his eyes, keeping his bicycle helmet on his lap. He didn’t notice the eyes on him for awhile, not until he had gotten his order and began to munch on his bagel and his own eyes began to wander the room. 

A man he had not noticed was seated several feet away from him, holding the paper open on the table, but his eyes were clearly glancing over to Bilbo. As soon as he noticed he had been seen, he stiffened just slightly and raised the paper further, hiding his eyes. Bilbo’s lips twitched with amusement. The man was darker skinned, with long black hair tied back in a neat ponytail at the base of his neck with a silver metal band. He was clearly dressed for work, in suit pants and a nice button-down collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and Bilbo could just make out a peek of colour from the crook of his elbow. Tattoo maybe? He also, as Bilbo could see despite his head being firmly down into the paper, he had thick facial hair trimmed neatly to frame his face. He was… very attractive.

Bilbo couldn’t help but smile to himself, lifting his cup of tea to his lips and hiding his own face in it somewhat. Here he was, a very good looking man, embarrassed at having been caught sneaking glances at little old Bilbo. Nothing quite like that for a confidence booster early in the morning, was there? He happily ate his breakfast, not looking up when he felt the eyes on him again. Bilbo was just getting the curiosity enough to debate going over to talk to him when he glanced at his watch. Shit, he was running late now. Any more dilly-dallying and he would actually be _on time_ instead of early! So he quickly gulped down the rest of his tea, said a final good morning to his favourite barista there, and rushed out of the shop and on to the bike, speeding off to the school.

And although he wouldn’t admit it, he spent a good portion of his time at home that night thinking of the man from the shop, hoping, despite his wishes, that he would see him again the next morning.

\--

The next morning rolled around and he found himself even more antsy to get started on the day than usual. He was up before his alarm by twenty minutes, and found himself dashing off to Esgaroth’s fifteen ahead of his normal schedule for earliness. So distracted he was, that he almost forgot his helmet.

The shop was empty this time as he walked in, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. But that was on him, he supposed. He couldn’t expect everyone to be on the same schedule he was, up early and always on time for everything in his life. So, shrugging off the disappointment and allowing himself to be cheered at the notion of having an extra quarter hour to spend in his favourite café, he ordered his breakfast and settled down in his chair, placing his glasses on the tip of his nose as he took out a paper to look over.

The bell to the shop dinged. Bilbo glanced up automatically; there was never anyone else here this early. But there he was, the man from yesterday, in a green shirt this time, his hand brushing an annoying bit of hair from his shockingly blue eyes. Eyes that fell on Bilbo quite instantly, leaving the latter to clear his throat and quickly look back to his paper. It was his turn to slightly stiffen. The man paused in the door, but responded with a smile to the barista who greeted him. He strode to the counter and began to order. 

Bilbo’s eyes read the same sentence what must have been five times. He was far too busy listening to the other’s voice to concentrate. It was very low, but clear and smooth; it had been a long time since a simple voice made his heart skip a beat. The man completed his order and hovered at the counter, looking at the lounging space, clearly thinking to himself. After a few moments longer than necessary, he walked forward and took his seat, one that was most definitely closer to Bilbo this time. 

He stole a glance and found the man not looking at him, but rather looking out the clear glass entrance, one leg’s ankle on the other’s knee, his hands in his lap, cupped around his phone. Now that he was closer, Bilbo noticed more about him. The small piercing on one of his ears, the bits of grey in his hair, the strong nose and jawline, and what was most definitely a tattoo peeking out of his sleeve on his left arm.

Bilbo’s order was called, and it took for the second call of his name for him to actually start and get himself up to get it. (He couldn’t be certain, but he could almost swear he saw the man’s lips twitch as his name was called the second time.) He ate his breakfast in silence once more, a bit nervous this time. Jeeze, this man was attractive. And he clearly knew it too. Bilbo munched his Danish, eyes on his paper again, ignoring the blue eyes he could feel beginning to fix on him. How could he even be sure he wasn’t imagining it? Maybe yesterday was a freak incident and this was a coincidence. And even if it wasn’t, how on Earth was he supposed to just start up a conversation with a guy like that in a place like this. He was probably just killing time before his job at… the handsome-guy’s store or something. Bilbo sipped his tea and stole another glance, finding the man indeed looking at him, before instantly going back to his paper and pretending nothing happened.

His pulse was slightly elevated, and he willed away the redness from his cheeks. This was like bloody high school all over again.

Sooner rather than later, his watch beeped at him. He muttered a soft ‘fuck,’ before rushing off again as he had done the previous day. Had he really wasted even more time this morning? That hardly seemed possible. He barely even made it through one student’s paper…

That night, he was most definitely thinking about the man. He tried to remember all the little bits about him from that day that he’d noticed, and the sound of his voice which he hated himself for wanting to hear again so badly. He mentally slapped himself, and resolved that the next day he would stop being a child. He was a thirty three year old man, after all. If he couldn’t talk to someone by now… Well. He would just have to do it tomorrow. At least introduce himself. He frankly couldn’t take another day of just stealing glances...

\--

He beat the other man the next day again. Bilbo was rather pleased about that, because it at least afforded him the opportunity to play his favourite card at starting conversation. He strode up to the barista, happily making small talk, and ordered his food.

“And that will be all,” she asked robotically, as she always did as he finished ordering.

“Not quite,” Bilbo smiled, waiting politely for her to officially hear him and stop, raising her eyebrows and smiling back. “You know the gentleman who has been here around the same time as me the last few days?”  
She nodded, her smile slowly turning sly and genuine rather than simply polite. “Indeed I do."

“I would like to pay for whatever he usually orders. When he comes in, just tell him someone’s already taken care of it, don’t mention me. Can you do that?” 

“Of course I can,” she grinned, ringing up the man’s usual order on Bilbo’s. “I gotcha covered, hon,” she added, running his order through.

Bilbo settled down in his favourite seat, feeling very pleased with himself, and resolved to wait patiently. He received his order and began to spread the crème cheese across his bagel, when the door dinged and the man stepped in. Bilbo didn’t even glance up this time, trying to hide a smile as the man, with a blue shirt this time, stepped up to the cash register. He listened in amusement as the man tried to order, and his barista politely said no. “Your order is already here, sir.” The man paused and then clearly tried to pay. “No need,” she added, a smile even in her voice. “It has already been taken care of. Have a great morning, let me know if you need anything!” 

The man was clearly looking over at him, breakfast in hand, but Bilbo was very deliberately sipping his tea, his eyes on the morning paper in his lap. After a few moments, the man walked over and took the seat directly across from Bilbo. In the small space between the chairs and the coffee table, their knees almost touched.

“I suppose it is you to whom I owe my thanks,” he said, looking at Bilbo with those impossibly blue eyes. Bilbo, so calm a moment ago, had to clear his throat before answering, looking up at him.

“Owe is a strong word,” he said with a grin. “But in this case, fairly accurate. You’re welcome,” he added, smiling at him over his glasses. 

The other man offered a chuckle. “Thank you,” he said, settling back in his chair, pulling his knee away. “Thorin,” he added, still looking at him. “My name’s Thorin.”

“Bilbo,” he responded, thinking over the name. Thorin. … It suited him. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin repeated, and Bilbo’s heart turned a bit. “Mind if I ask you a question,” he continued, balancing his coffee cup on his knee. 

“Fire away,” he responded back, folding the paper politely and setting it on the arm of the chair.

“Where is it you dash off to every morning?” Thorin asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh,” Bilbo hummed, sitting up a bit straighter. If he was representing the school in some way, he best act like it. “I’m a teacher. I’m over at Imladris, the school just down the road. I’ve got to run so I can beat my students in time enough to set up for the day, you know how it goes.”

Thorin nodded, thinking to himself for a moment. “Mmm, that would make sense. I can see you as a teacher. What else could you be, looking so awake this early in the morning,” he chuckled. Bilbo laughed with him. “I wish I had your chipperness,” he added. “It takes quite a long time for me to even be sociable in the mornings.”

“You’re pretty sociable now,” Bilbo replied without thinking, looking up at him and folding up his glasses to put in his bag. 

The man was silent for a moment, and simply sipped his coffee. Bilbo cleared his throat and looked at him somewhat awkwardly, up and down, until he could settle on a question. “… So what is it you do? You’re always looking rather nice. That is, you’re looking like you work somewhere nice,” he added quickly, his back straightening in his char. Thorin chuckled at him.

“Nowhere special,” he said, fingers drumming on the lid of his cup. “Erebor Jewelers. Family business. One would hardly buy expensive necklaces and rings from a man with long hair and a hoodie, now would they?” 

Bilbo grinned at him. That was… Oddly nice to hear. Picturing this man behind a counter filled with precious things, or perhaps working in the back, delicately shaping gems and placing them into perfectly fitting pendants with precise instruments, the ends of his ponytail laid on his shoulder…

“Well, depends on the buyer. Now I would be interested in seeing that, personally. What kind of hoodie are we talking? The ‘I’m cold’ kind, or the ‘I don’t care who sees me like this’ kind?”

“There’s multiple?” he laughed. “Regardless, you would be the first. Though you would also be a welcome change from the usual types we have coming through.”

“And what kind is that? Snobs, I take it?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Thorin grinned, leaning forward again. “Half the time I feel under dressed. My best customer struts around like he’s the king of everything…” he went on, and was about to elaborate when Bilbo’s watch beeped. They both looked at it, and Bilbo frowned, sighing.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said, gathering his things. “I have to go. It was nice to officially meet you, Thorin,” he paused, shuffling his things around to offer out his hand. The man looked at his hand and took it, shaking it slowly. His hands were surprisingly soft and warm. Very warm.

“My pleasure, Bilbo.” His heart fluttered for the second time. “Hope to see you again sometime.”

Bilbo nodded and smiled, saying goodbye to the barista (who was looking entirely too pleased with herself), and dashing off again. He could feel eyes on him once more as he unchained his bicycle and rode off down the sidewalk. That went… That went rather well, he thought…

\--

The next few weeks were more of the same. They would meet each other at the shop, sometimes Thorin would buy Bilbo’s breakfast, sometimes the other way around, sometimes they just got their things and sat next to each other, talking about nothing. Bilbo was clearly in an exceedingly good mood, as his students were quick to notice. Fili and Kili even got out of having to scrub the dry erase boards clean when they doodled the entirety of the How to Train Your Dragon movie during their lunch break. 

That Friday, Bilbo and Gandalf were set to go out to an early dinner. They met at their usual place, a generic sit-down place with street-signs and trinkets on the walls, and Bilbo ordered a beer for himself as he waited. Gandalf joined him not long after his arrival, settling himself down in the seat with a grunt and leaning his walking cane against the edge of the table.

“So, Bilbo,” Gandalf said, clasping his hands and setting them on the table in front of him. “Are you settled in yet?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” he nodded, his hand on the pleasantly cold bottle, playing with it. “Quite settled. It’s starting to feel more and more like a home, here.” 

“Good, that’s good,” Gandalf smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You seem to be in a better mood of late.”

“Well, that’s because I have,” Bilbo grinned. “I believe I’ve made a friend. Always a good thing in a new town.” Gandalf hummed his agreement, but continued to look at him, clearly expecting more. “You know, it’s funny, I actually met him in the coffee shop I visit nearly every morning. I never did peg myself for the ‘coffee shop friend’ kind of person, but, here we are.” Again, Gandalf looked to be waiting. “Ah, his name is Thorin. Thorin…. You know, I never caught his last name. Anyway, he’s quite a nice fellow. Fun, and not too serious, easy to talk to, polite, charismatic, handsome, intelligent…” Bilbo trailed off.

“What was that?”

“Hm?” Bilbo hummed, looking at him over his glasses as he drank the last bit of his beer, thanking the waitress as she brought him a second one. 

“How did you describe him?” Gandalf repeated, starting to grin.

“Charismatic? Intelligent?” Bilbo blinked, looking at Gandalf with a slightly furrowed brow.

“…. Yes. … Well, I’m glad you’ve made a friend, I’d say that makes you fully part of town, now. You won’t need my checking up on you much longer,” he added.

“Won’t I? Shame, I like our little dinners,” he frowned.

“Oh, I’ll say you won’t miss them for long,” he hummed, getting out his phone and sending a text message rapidly.

Bilbo finished his second beer rather quickly.

\--

The next Monday he arrived at Esgaroth’s at his usual early time and ordered his usual breakfast and sat in his usual armchair. Everything was going pleasantly, he was even admiring this morning’s flower choice in the vase, until he got halfway through his breakfast and noticed Thorin was still not here. He frowned to himself, eyes glancing up at the door every now and again, as if doing so would suddenly will the other into walking in. But he never did. Time wore on, and still he didn’t show up.

Not that Bilbo could really expect him to. Things change, no one is as strict to the schedule as he was. But still, he thought, five minutes before he had to leave, he had thought the other liked their talks. Maybe he was just sick. Or still out of town from a weekend trip. He thought back to see if the other had mentioned any kind of trip or anything he was going on, but came up empty. In fact, the more he thought, the more he realized he really didn’t know much about Thorin. He didn’t even know his last name. And, he remembered, mentally smacking himself, he had never asked for his number! What if he never showed back up? What if their timings were always off and he’d never get to talk to the deep-voiced man again? He hated how much the thought twisted his stomach. 

His watch beeped and he packed up his belongings, not his usual perky self. He rode off to the school, chewing his cheek as he went. He hadn’t realized how much he’d liked those morning talks until he didn’t have one. He felt the same way he did when he left something at home, slightly without, like he would be modestly off all day.

Indeed, he was even more crabby than usual that day. Fili and Kili were once again in trouble, this time for throwing books at each other in the back of class. Bilbo took their picture as he always did, but was feeling far less into it this time, and did it simply because he knew Dis would enjoy it. He called her during their recess and told her they would need to stay after and serve their punishment, and she agreed, letting him know she’d be there to pick them up.

They sat in silence during the length of their detention, Bilbo seated at the front, grading papers at his desk while the two boys sat at opposite points in the room, silently working on their homework. He could hear them shifting around restlessly, their feet kicking the legs of their desks, their pencils tapping at the wood. Bilbo sighed. He was still feeling off. He wished he was back in his apartment with Myrtle and a cup of warm cocoa, so he could settle in to bed and try again tomorrow. Who knows, maybe the man would be back by then.

And as it turns out, he wouldn’t have to wait so very long after all. Four o’clock came and went, and Bilbo frowned, getting impatient himself. Where was Dis? She was usually on time to pick them up. Twenty minutes passed and he was about to call her, when the door to the classroom creaked open, hesitantly. 

“Fili? Kili?”

Bilbo did a double take. There he was, Thorin, walking into his classroom. Thorin looked about as surprised as Bilbo when he recognized him, but couldn’t say anything before cries of ‘Uncle!’ diverted his attention. Fili and Kili both leapt out of their desks and over to Thorin, throwing their arms around his neck in a quick hug. “I don’t think I could have done any more math,” Kili whined, dramatically flopping on one of Thorin’s arms. “You saved me just in time.”

“Where’s mama?” Fili asked, returning to his desk to pack up his things.

“She… said something came up,” Thorin said slowly, turning to look at Bilbo again who was trying very hard not to go red. “I think I might have figured out what,” he added, the corners of his lips twitching upward as he looked at Bilbo. “Why don’t you kids go to the bathroom before we go, hm? Meet me outside, I need a quick word with your teacher, and then we’ll head out.”

The boys agreed and ran off, lightly shoving each other out the door first before it closed behind them with a click. Thorin then slowly walked over to Bilbo, and lifted a leg on the desk, leaning on it and chuckling. “So. I made the mistake of telling my sister about you over dinner last night. I think she might have figured out who you were,” he grinned.

Bilbo had to laugh, a hand going to ruffle up the back of his own hair. “She might have had a tip off, I admit,” he grinned sheepishly. “I had told Gandalf about you, and I do tend to forget he knows nearly everyone.”

They laughed together and smiled at each other, a different kind of smile, the kind where the eyes twinkle and the temperature of the room seems to go up a few degrees.

“… Durin,” Thorin said, flashing his white teeth in a grin. “I suppose you have figured that out. My last name is Durin.”

“Baggins,” Bilbo snickered, pointing to the name-plate on his desk. Thorin’s eyes followed until they fell on a pen and post-it note.

“May I?” He asked. Bilbo nodded, and Thorin picked them both up, scribbling something down on it before handing them back, a folded over bit handed to him specifically. “I’m sure there are more effective ways for us to get in touch that don’t involve my nephews in detention, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Everyone would prefer it, I think,” Bilbo grinned, almost giddy as he pocketed the paper, safely. “Well, I don’t want to keep you,” he said, almost regretfully. “Go ahead and take them home, I’ll see you when I see you, Mr. Durin.”

“And I you, Mr. Baggins.” 

Bilbo nearly blushed. Thorin grinned at him one last time and took his leave, throwing a look at him through the glass in the door before departing.   
The teacher waited a few moments after the retreating footsteps down the hall could no longer be heard before he pulled the post it out of his pocket. Unfolding it, he found it was a number, as he expected, but also a small note scribbled in the corner.

‘Dinner tomorrow?’

Bilbo couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face, nor could he help himself from immediately texting the number.

‘See you tomorrow at eight.’


End file.
